


Alone

by Banshee1013



Series: Suptober 2019 Ficlets [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hallucination Castiel (Supernatural), Hunter's Funeral (Supernatural), Nightmares, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 19:16:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21202709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banshee1013/pseuds/Banshee1013
Summary: Ficlet to accompany art for Suptober 2019.Day 24 - Nightmare.





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Art can be found [here.](https://banshee1013.tumblr.com/post/188578421057/suptober-day-24-nightmare-rating-mature-tags)

Castiel stood silent and still, the yellow-orange light flickering in his eyes and reflecting off the tears streaking his face.

He has been alive for millennia. He has been alone before. All those times before, he didn’t really notice, or care. Sometimes, his duties demanded solitude.

But that was before *them*. That was before he found a family, and made them his.

And now, they were gone. All of them.

Kelly. Mary. And now the three bodies currently burning on the pyre.

He approached it, reaching into the inner trench coat pocket. Pulled out pictures.

A picture of Jack, beaming around a mouthful of nougat. Cas stifled a sob, his breath lurching in his chest as he placed the picture over one of the wrapped bundles.

The next brought a sad smile to his face - Sam, standing tall and commanding in front of the Bunker’s Map table, addressing the hunters who insisted on calling him “Chief”, much to his embarrassment - but a more fitting title, Cas could not comprehend for the youngest Winchester. With a shaky sigh, the picture joined the tall bundle in the fire.

Cas stopped for a moment to gather himself, clutching the last picture to his chest. He tried to prepare. But when he finally braved a glance at the picture in his hand, sobs wracked his chest and fresh tears fell anew.

Dean, long legs stretched out and feet propped on the table in the Bunker’s library, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Eyes closed, a soft relaxed smile on his face.

And it was all Cas’ fault. He had the opportunity to save them… to save them all. But they were *so sure* Plan A would work… when it didn’t, Plan B surely would… and when that failed, it was too late.

Castiel was forced to stand, and stare, and watch Jack and the Winchesters die for the final time.

And he was the only one left to bury them, to mourn them.

When he placed Dean’s picture in the fire, that was the only thought that kept him from throwing himself in along with it.

Someone needed to remain. To bury the dead, to mourn.

To remember.

He fell to his knees and wailed to the Heavens… as if they were still there.

***************************

“CAS! Cas, hey! Wake up, buddy! Wake up!”

The feeling of being vigorously shaken, and Castiel startled awake to the sight of Dean inches from his face, concern darkening the usually luminescent green of his eyes, a hand firm on his shoulder, the other warm and gentle on his face. Dean’s thumb gently wiped a tear away.

“Dean… Dean, is it really you?” Cas reached up toward Dean’s face, hesitantly, as if afraid touching him might make him disappear into smoke and ash.

Dean grasped Cas’ hand and placed it on his own face. “Yeah, Cas, it’s me. It’s OK, I’m here…”

“And Sam… where’s Sam?” Cas’ eyes darted to the side to find Sam on the other side of the bed where Cas lay. Sam laid his hand on Cas’ other shoulder and squeezed.

“I’m here, Cas. It’s ok… you’re gonna be ok.”

“It was a dream, Cas… a nightmare. That’s all, ” Dean said softly, pulling Cas’ face back to meet his eyes, to run his fingers through Cas’ hair, damp with sweat. “Just a bad dream.”

Sam stood and disappeared briefly, returning with a cool damp washcloth, handing it to Dean who carefully wiped Cas’ brow and face. Cas began to notice more of his surroundings then - T-shirt and boxers clammy against his skin, the sheets and pillow damp with sweat. A single lamp covered with a towel dimly lighting the room. He turned questioning eyes back to Dean, then over to Sam.

“You’ve been having a… rough time… since you gave up your Grace to save us. You saved us all… ” Sam’s voice was rough and choked. “But you’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna make sure of that…”

“Damn straight we are,” Dean murmured, helping Cas rise to sit propped against the headboard, and handed him a cool glass of water, which Cas eagerly gulped down.

He stopped as a thought occurred. “Wait… Jack? Is… is Jack alive as well?” Cas could only dare to hope.

The hotel room door burst open, showering the dimly lit room with light and backlighting a figure in the doorway.

Sam chuckled. “Yeah… in fact, here he is now!”

“Cas? Are you awake?” The sound of bags and their contents hitting the floor and the beat of rapid footsteps, and Jack was suddenly there, hugging him, well and whole. Cas’ very human emotions overwhelmed him, and he dampened Jack’s shoulders with happy tears.

“You’re here…” he breathed into Jack’s shoulder, then pulled back to look at Sam, smiling with a hand on Jack’s shoulder, then to Dean, green eyes bright with unshed tears but a smile setting his face aglow.

“You’re all here… I’m not alone…” Cas choked down another sob.

“No, you’re not alone,” Dean affirmed, taking his hand and squeezing. “And you never will be again.”


End file.
